


Bunnies Love Carrots

by RinHo (RinAngel)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Domestic Boyfriends, Fluff and Smut, Healthy Relationships, Hypersexual Doyoung, Lee Taeyong is Whipped, M/M, Open Relationships, Oral Fixation, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Public Display of Affection, Public Sex, Sex Addiction, Sex Toys, switch dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 01:55:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30064896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinAngel/pseuds/RinHo
Summary: Taeyong is absolutely in love with his boyfriend, even though Doyoung's hypersexuality adds some unexpected kinks (ha, ha) to their relationship.Doyoung just wants to get dicked down, by anyone— but especially by his beloved boyfriend, who he knows would do anything for him.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Kim Jungwoo, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Moon Taeil/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 6
Kudos: 149





	Bunnies Love Carrots

1.

Taeyong loved weekends. When he had to wake up at 5 AM most days to shower and shave his face and put on a stuffy, uncomfortable suit, there seemed to be nothing more hedonistic and wonderful than laying in bed past 9 with his eyes closed, listening to the traffic outside his apartment and feeling his boyfriend’s warm body pressed up beside him.

Doyoung shifted, trembled, sighed. Taeyong smiled, about to say good morning, but before he could open his mouth, Doyoung cut him off with a quiet moan: “Taeyongie…”

Ah, yes, typical. Doyoung was an early riser, no matter what— and his sex drive always seemed to be the same, whether it was 9 AM or the middle of the afternoon or the absolute dead of night. Taeyong wasn’t sure he understood it, but damn… it was admirable if nothing else. He shifted a little and cracked one eye open, watching the subtle movements of Doyoung’s hand beneath the comforter.

“Thinking about me this early?” Taeyong’s voice was gravelly with sleep; he was still tired, but his hand found Doyoung’s flat stomach, slipping under his shirt and tracing the lines of his abs. “Want me to help you out? At least once before I go make breakfast?”

“God, yes, _please…”_ Doyoung pleaded softly, his breath trembling as Taeyong’s hand moved lower, hips raising to meet his touch. “Dreamed about you,” he huffed, turning his head to press his face into Taeyong’s neck. “Using me like the slut that I am.”

“Aww. Don’t talk about yourself that way. It’s rude.”

_“Taeyong, come on.”_

“Fine, fine. You’re a slut.” It still made Taeyong feel bad to say, just the _tiniest_ bit, but the smile on Doyoung’s face eased his guilt. “Slut” wasn’t an insult, not in Doyoung’s world, anyway. His fingertips traced lightly up and down Doyoung’s cock, drawing an impatient shiver and a whine. “Can’t believe you wake up this way. Want me to suck you off, bunny?”

The instant rutting of Doyoung’s hips against him said more than enough, and Taeyong tossed the blankets off of them, taking his comfortable place between Doyoung’s thighs. They switched off between dominant and submissive roles, depending on the mood, but Taeyong had a special affinity for sucking dick because it could really go either way. Sometimes he liked Doyoung’s fingers tugging on his hair, pushing him deeper— but there was nothing like the rush of giving slow, teasing, worshipful head and watching Doyoung come apart.

His fingers wrapped around the base of Doyoung’s sizeable member while his tongue worked the underside of his head, perhaps the most sensitive part of his whole body. Doyoung whined again, and Taeyong smirked as he watched his fingers curl into the sheets, struggling to stay still. There was such a _tension_ to him sometimes, like he just _needed_ that release. Doyoung had confessed to him that if he got too horny, he couldn’t focus on anything else, and Taeyong believed it.

“Yongie, _fuck…”_

“Mm?” Taeyong answered to his desperation cheekily, giving him a lick from base to tip that seemed to pull Doyoung’s hips up with it. “Not too eager, now, bun. You don’t want it to be over too fast.”

“Want to cum. Please. You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“You’re so greedy.” Taeyong chuckled as he wrapped his lips around the tip of his cock at long last, feeling merciful.

“Ah— y-you say it like you’re surprised…”

Doyoung had a point. Whether Taeyong dragged things out or rushed to make him cum, Doyoung wouldn’t be spent until his body was ready to be, so why _wouldn’t_ he want to orgasm as many times as possible? Still, Taeyong dragged out the tease for a little longer, alternating loving strokes of his tongue with suction focused on his head, all while jerking him off firmly with one hand and letting the fingers of the other gently tease his balls.

He knew the tell-tale signs of Doyoung getting close though, the urgency in his whines and the uneven hitches in his breathing, and he let the sounds encourage him on to take Doyoung all the way to the back of his throat. Taeyong moaned around him, made a moment of smoldering eye contact— and with a half-coherent _“fuck”_ and a dramatic eye roll, Doyoung released his first load of the day down his eager throat.

“Ah… shit.” Doyoung cursed again as his body relaxed, working to catch his breath. “I feel like I’m going to be hard again in five minutes. I have a feeling it’s going to be another one of those days…”

“Well, that’s okay, because I’m home _all_ day!” Taeyong chirped, leaning up to give Doyoung his first proper kiss of the day— the taste of his own cum always seemed to turn him on more, which was funny, because Taeyong couldn’t bear for Doyoung to kiss him after going down on him. “We can play more this afternoon, bunny. I’ll give you as much as you can take— unless you’d rather do _me_ this time.”

“Don’t even _talk_ to me about that unless you plan on doing it right away.” Doyoung pouted. At least for the moment, he looked tired, but that tended to change on a dime. Taeyong had dated a good number of boys, but never one with a refractory period so short. (Doyoung was certainly the first who had instructed him to keep fucking him through the sensitive period after he came— “I’ll get hard again faster if you do. Don’t worry, I like it.” Fair enough.)

“Not right away. Next order of business is breakfast. What sounds better, eggs or pancakes?”

Doyoung curled himself up hopefully against Taeyong’s body. “Omelette?”

“That sounds like a lot of work. Only for you,” Taeyong teased in mock reluctance, kissing Doyoung’s forehead one more time before he got up. “I’ll call you when everything’s ready. Coffee or tea?”

“Whichever you want. Whatever’s easier,” Doyoung mumbled, and for half a second he looked almost, _almost_ shy, hiding behind the blanket. And then— “Will you toss me my vibrator before you go? It’s there on the dresser. I forgot to put it away after I washed it.”

Taeyong chuckled, though he really hadn’t expected anything less. Without complaint, he passed over the prostate massager, Doyoung’s favorite. It had been a birthday present, and Doyoung had definitely put it to good use— _more or less_ every day, according to his own admission.

His boyfriend certainly _was_ one-of-a-kind, as he was reminded about ten minutes later, at the muffled sound of Doyoung calling his name in ecstasy while Taeyong was busy chopping up onions and mushrooms for their breakfast. Doyoung didn’t always make things easy for him, but Taeyong wouldn’t even think of asking him to change.

2.

 _Hypersexual_ was the word Doyoung used for it, and never with an ounce of shame, just a matter-of-fact honesty that made Taeyong love him all the more. It didn’t affect his performance at his job (he was a vocal coach, and a damn good one, too) or his health (which he was meticulous about), but he _did_ confess early in their courtship that it had made past relationships hard. “My last boyfriend wasn’t all that interested in sex, which I _tried_ to suck it up and deal with, but the moment I brought up opening the relationship sexually, he insisted I go to therapy for my apparent sex addiction. It was horrible. We broke up soon after, as you can probably imagine.”

Taeyong was determined not to be _that_ type of person. Maybe he couldn’t keep up with Doyoung’s demands all the time, but he was so crazy about this man that sharing him with someone else was a small price to pay.

Besides, like Doyoung had reminded him the first time he’d arranged a date with another man: “I’m hypersexual, but I’m not polyamorous. I don’t have any emotional attachment to anyone but you. Thank you for trusting me enough to do this, hyung.” It was before their first I-love-you’s, but it hit the same way, and made Taeyong feel pretty damn special.

Doyoung was _very_ particular about his partners, which helped to put Taeyong’s mind at ease— and he made no secret out of the fact that he’d take Taeyong over all of them, if he could. _“You fuck me like you mean it,”_ he’d explained once, between rounds, his own cum drying on his chest as he nibbled on the shell of Taeyong’s ear. Taeyong had first scoffed at that— anyone would be stupid to fuck Doyoung without _meaning it—_ but it had warmed his heart in hindsight, the reminder that their sex was _more than_ sex.

That knowledge made everything fall into place. He no longer felt anything like jealousy when Doyoung came home from his hotel outings; it had been Jaehyun this time, who seemed like too much of a gentleman to give Doyoung the pounding that he was usually after, but all Doyoung would say was that “looks could be deceiving”. He had a couple others, too: sometimes Johnny, the barista at his favorite coffee shop, or Jungwoo, who had been one of his vocal students and had apparently flirted with him like mad the entire time.

“I’m home, hyung!”

“In here,” Taeyong called from the bedroom, where he was settled into bed with a book and a cup of sleepytime tea. A few seconds after, Doyoung appeared in the doorway, draping his jacket on the back of Taeyong’s desk chair. His hair was still damp from showering, and Taeyong immediately picked out the dark hickey at the base of his pale neck— no way that could be covered completely with makeup. Taeyong could already foresee Doyoung wearing a turtleneck the next day. “Did you have a nice time?”

“Yeah! Jaehyunnie took me for drinks at this new bar that just opened up. It was nice. I wanna go with you next time,” Doyoung answered with a sleepy little slur, stripping off all his clothes piece by piece and reaching for one of Taeyong’s sweatshirts from the closet. The way he pressed his face into it for half a second before he slipped it on didn’t escape Taeyong’s notice, and it only made his heart swell with affection.

“Well, c’mere. It’s cold, and I’ve been waiting for you to come home and cuddle.”

Doyoung didn’t need to be told twice. He slipped under the covers and snuggled up to Taeyong’s side— bare legs feeling cold as they tangled themselves with Taeyong’s, warm chest and beating heart pressed up to his side as Taeyong wrapped an arm around him. He kissed Taeyong on the cheek, wiggling himself closer.

“What are you reading?”

“Mark recommended it to me. It’s a trashy young adult novel. It’s stupid, but I’m kind of into it.”

“Ahh.” Doyoung made a sound of acknowledgement, but Taeyong got the sense that he was only half-listening— confirmed when Doyoung’s lips landed on the corner of his jaw and trailed slowly down his neck. There was nothing _innocuous_ about it, Doyoung knew the precise buttons to press, had mapped out the sensitive places that drove Taeyong crazy. His breath caught in his throat, but a second later, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Jaehyun didn’t do enough to tire you out?”

“It’s _good,_ but it’s not the _same_ when it’s not you. I like the way you kiss me when we do it, and the way you play with my hair after…” His tone was lightly seductive, but more genuine than anything; his soft nuzzle against Taeyong’s shoulder was a very different flavor from the naughty hand that crept from Taeyong’s hip to his thigh.

The moment was too wonderful, and it made Taeyong shiver. Doyoung was sweetness and sensuality in one perfect package, one that Taeyong has happy to unwrap again and again.

“Mm, maybe I’m not _quite_ as tired as I thought after all.”

Doyoung chuckled against Taeyong’s neck, fingers sliding up the inseam of Taeyong’s pajama pants and ghosting along his bulge. “Give your bunny one _quick_ little ride on your cock before bed? You don’t even need to prep me, the hard work’s been done for you!”

 _There it was._ Taeyong felt his dick twitch in his pants, and he closed the book without even bothering to mark his place— setting it aside and letting Doyoung take over his lap as their lips met.

He still kissed Taeyong like he was his one and only, and that was a hard thing not to love. Selfishly, he sometimes wondered if Doyoung’s ex had ever realized what he was missing out on.

3.

Taeyong could could still picture the first time he’d laid eyes on his lover, in _photographic_ detail: waiting for him in one of the coffee shop’s window seats, wearing a blue cashmere sweater that draped sexily to one side and exposed one gorgeous collarbone, jet-black hair pushed messily back off his forehead. Taeyong had expected less, had actually suspected Doyoung of using filters in his dating site profile pictures to make his skin flawless and his eyes so hypnotically bright— but fuck, _he was real._ Taeyong’s legs had felt like rubber bands as he made his way over to introduce himself.

Doyoung was easy to talk to, but he would have been easier if he were less attractive.

_“I hope this isn’t too forward, but I think you’re beautiful.”_

And Doyoung had had the _audacity_ to blush. Was this not something he was used to hearing? If they ended up dating, Taeyong told himself dreamily, he’d made sure that Doyoung heard it all the time.

_“I like when guys are forward with me. And— thank you. I was actually just thinking the same thing about you. You have such pretty eyes.”_

Taeyong heard often about couples losing the magic after years together, but he couldn’t imagine the feeling between them changing. Coming home from work on the night of their third anniversary gave Taeyong the same first-date butterflies in his stomach, even though he knew what he could expect— a romantic evening, a nice dinner, and some fantastic sex.

Stepping through their apartment door, with a dozen roses in hand and a diamond necklace tucked into his pocket, he was quite surprised when Doyoung wasn’t there to ambush him. The year before, he’d had his legs wrapped around Taeyong’s waist before Taeyong could even take his jacket off; the year before _that,_ their very _first_ anniversary, he’d woken up in the morning with his dick down Doyoung’s throat, which had seemed impossibly kinky at the time (he’d cum _embarrassingly_ fast) but was now more or less standard behavior for them.

“Babe? Are you home?” No reply. Taeyong pouted. Maybe Doyoung had forgotten about an evening vocal lesson he’d scheduled, but— really, on their _anniversary_ of all days? It didn’t seem possible, especially when Doyoung had gone out the night before _specifically_ to buy them good wine and all the fixings for a fancy dinner. _(Oysters—_ which were known as an aphrodisiac, Taeyong noted with amusement, but he didn’t say anything about it.)

Before he could think to text Doyoung and find out, though, a large envelope propped up on the kitchen table caught his eye— _OPEN ME,_ the envelope dared in bold, markered letters. Taeyong couldn’t help but grin as he carefully opened the top of the envelope and pulled out a stack of papers, topped with a note printed in familiar handwriting.

_“Happy anniversary to my favorite person in the universe! I feel like I don’t tell you enough just how blessed I feel to have you in my life— doesn’t it feel like three years have gone by in the blink of an eye? I have so much more that I want to say to you face-to-face, but I hope you know how absolutely wonderful you make me feel, shortcomings and all. I know in my heart that this is only the beginning of something that’s going to last a long time, and I only hope that you feel the same way. I love you from the bottom of my heart, Lee Taeyong.”_

Taeyong read the note over a second time, feeling his heart soar. Doyoung was, unsurprisingly, a romantic in every way. And Taeyong _did_ feel the same way; three years really wasn’t that long, but strangely, he couldn’t imagine a life with anyone else—

And then he shuffled the note to the back of the pile to see what was next, and he quietly gasped at what greeted his eyes— namely, Doyoung’s strong shoulders, trim waist, and perfect ass, perfectly visible through the sheer negligee he wore. His long legs were accentuated by a matching garter and stockings, virgin white, with only a pair of baby-pink pumps to add a kiss of color to the outfit. Oh, and the _ears—_ a pair of silky white-and-pink bunny ears peeking out of his lovely dark hair, the sight of which just about knocked Taeyong over. Doyoung was posed by the window, but glancing back over his shoulder at the camera, eyes wide and soulful and inviting, a look that regularly made Taeyong weak with desire.

There were eight pictures in all, tastefully posed and seeming professionally airbrushed (or maybe Doyoung was just _that_ perfect, Taeyong thought giddily). None of them were entirely nude, but they all offered titillating glances of neck, waist, ass, thigh; Taeyong had never much seen the appeal of pornography, but he’d never seen pornography like _this._ Nothing could have matched it in eroticism, and he was half-hard when he reached the final picture of Doyoung splayed out across pure white bedsheets, lips parted as if breathless and eyes seeming to say _fuck me, fuck me_ **_now._ **

A single yellow sticky note was adhered to the corner, an invitation in Doyoung’s lazy scrawl: _“I’m waiting for you in bed_ ❤ _Hurry!”_

Suddenly, Taeyong wasn’t thinking of dinner anymore. He set the roses he’d bought carelessly on the table, tossed his coat across one of the chairs. He already had his tie half-loosened as he approached the closed bedroom door—

And then their eyes met. Taeyong’s wide in disbelief, Doyoung’s lined with makeup and twinkling with mirth. He was done up in the exact same outfit as in the photos, from the bunny ears all the way down to the fuck-me heels, and when he shifted the negligee to the side, Taeyong noticed the white lacy thong that he wore, patterned with cute little flowers.

“Like it?” he asked innocently, though the question was clearly rhetorical— Doyoung’s eyes fell from Taeyong’s face to the bulge between his legs and gave him his answer right away. He got to his feet and made his way slowly across the bedroom, letting Taeyong admire every step. He wrapped his arms around Taeyong’s waist, leaning down to kiss him tenderly in greeting; then, wordlessly, as though it came second nature, he dropped to his knees and began to undo Taeyong’s pants with a flirtatious little smirk.

“You look amazing, bunny.” Taeyong was left humbled by his own trembling hands as he reached down to brush Doyoung’s bangs out of his eyes, and the tender gesture practically had the younger _purring._

“Good. You deserve the best.” Doyoung smirked, wasting no time in freeing Taeyong’s erection from his underwear. He held Taeyong’s gaze with confidence, eyes smoldering as he leaned in and took half of Taeyong’s cock in one easy motion that had him digging his nails into the palms of his hands.

But for all of his eagerness, Doyoung seemed to be restraining himself— slow, loving, and deliberate with his lips and tongue, eyes glowing with pure adoration even as he swallowed Taeyong completely and blinked back tears. He always seemed like he enjoyed giving head as much as Taeyong enjoyed getting it, and the way he couldn’t resist rubbing himself through his panties as Taeyong sighed out his string of soft curses only affirmed that.

When Taeyong was getting close (it wasn’t hard to tell— his dick always twitched, which embarrassed him and amused Doyoung to no end), Doyoung pulled back deliberately and let his hands take over for his lips. Taeyong didn’t even have time to think about it as he came, painting Doyoung’s pretty face in thick ropes of cum that dripped down his cheeks and off the tip of his perfect nose.

_“Fuck.”_

“I really hoped you’d like it! I’ve never worn anything like this before. Jungwoo was my photographer, and he said the heels made me too tall.”

“It-It’s all perfect,” Taeyong panted, still trying to catch his breath and willing his brain to stop spinning. Unlike Doyoung, he _wasn’t_ multi-orgasmic, and they’d probably have to wait until after dinner for the main event, but he had no doubt that it would be worth the patience for both of them. “You look beautiful. _Always_ beautiful… but especially now.” He chuckled breathlessly as he wiped away a smudge of cum that had landed dangerously close to Doyoung’s eye.

“Speaking of which…” Doyoung grinned flawlessly, handing his phone up to Taeyong. “Take the last picture for me, and I’ll have it printed to complete your collection. It won’t be quite the same quality, but I’m sure you won’t mind?” As Taeyong shakily entered Doyoung’s passcode and opened the camera, Doyoung struck the perfect pose, peering up at Taeyong with love in his eyes as he sucked the head of his cock clean.

 _Snap._ Beautiful, stunning, perfect. Once again, Taeyong was left wondering how the _fuck_ he’d ended up so undeniably lucky.

4.

Honestly, Taeyong never expected to meet any of Doyoung’s fuckbuddies, let alone meet them and _like_ them. But Johnny was cool, and Taeyong _particularly_ liked Johnny’s boyfriend Taeil, who worked as an elementary school music teacher and always seemed to have plenty of stories to tell. They were an odd couple in some ways, but Doyoung attested that he'd known them for years and had never seen them have a single argument over anything. Different as they were, the love was plain to see in every little gesture between them, and Taeyong secretly wondered if he and Doyoung had an energy even close.

"But we used to argue a lot in college," Taeil recounted when Taeyong mentioned this, refilling each of their four glasses with soju. They’d taken to double-dates at least a couple times a month, and they were settled in their usual table in the back of their favorite barbecue place. Taeyong had been particularly busy over the last week, so the drinks were much needed— and since Johnny had offered to pick up the tab, Taeyong was sort of ready to take advantage. "It was terrible. Probably a year after we started dating, right?"

“Mm, yeah. Before you came out, and before I learned to actually talk about my feelings,” Johnny agreed easily, shrugging. And to fill the others in, he explained, “It took awhile for us to really figure out how to talk about our sexualities. Taeil being gray-ace, and me wanting to fuck anything with a pulse. All our friends thought we were crazy for opening up the relationship, but it took a lot of pressure off of both of us.”

“And now, when we _do_ have sex, it’s when we both _really_ want to,” Taeil added with a humble little blush, lowering his eyes from Taeyong’s and picking up his glass. “That makes it more special, I think…”

“The amount of trust you both have for each other is so cool!” Taeyong commented with a smile. “For us, it’s really just a matter of practicality. If I had sex with Doyoung as much as he wanted to have sex, I’d never get anything done.”

Wasn’t _that_ the truth. Doyoung had been fairly quiet that night, but for the last few minutes, his hand had been busy beneath the table— finger traveling up and down the inseam of Taeyong’s jeans. Admittedly, it made things a little hard to focus. _Damn it, I knew we should have fucked before we left._

“No rebuttal, Doyoung?” Johnny smirked.

“I mean, hyung pretty much hit the nail on the head. I’m insatiable. Pretty much horny any time I’m not sleeping,” Doyoung admitted bluntly, giving Taeyong’s upper thigh a squeeze that bolted through him like an electrical current. _God,_ he was good, without even trying.

Taeil laughed, adding teasingly, “And you’re always leaving marks all over _my_ boyfriend. Sometimes he comes home looking like he’s gotten himself beat up.”

“What can I say? I bite.”

The conversation was cut short by the waitress bringing them their food, chili-roasted chicken and short ribs and a large basket of fries between the four of them. Taeyong had been starving a few minutes ago, but he found himself fumbling to pick up his chopsticks, his mind otherwise occupied by thoughts of _Doyoung biting._ The satisfying soreness that came afterwards, the red marks still visible along his hips the next day— _fuck,_ this was the wrong thing to be thinking about while Taeil was recounting a story from work and making Doyoung and Johnny laugh.

Doyoung’s hand retreated so that he could split his chopsticks, but not before his fingertips ghosted across Taeyong’s crotch, so lightly that he certainly could have claimed an accident, and anyone more naive probably would have believed him.

After the meal was finished and the tab was paid, Taeil was the first to stand from the table: “It’s still pretty early! Do you two want to come to our house for a nightcap? We got some new wine that we’ve been itching to try!”

Taeyong couldn’t help but feel bad, especially as he turned to meet Doyoung’s eyes and found that they were alight with the same sentiment: _Any night but tonight. Tonight, I can’t think about anything but you._ “I think we’re going to have to pass tonight,” Taeyong declined after half a second, giving Taeil a smile that he hoped felt apologetic. “I’m feeling a little tired lately, and I’m worried that if i drink anymore, I’ll sleep too late and wake up with a hangover.”

“Fair enough. I can definitely relate,” Johnny replied, giving a little yawn himself. Then his eyes turned on Doyoung, and he gave a knowing sort of warning: “Hear that? Don’t keep Taeyong up, he’s _tired.”_

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Doyoung answered smoothly, his smile saccharine and his arm linking bravely with Taeyong’s to leave together. “Maybe next weekend, we can get together, and Taeyong and I will buy the drinks! Johnny-hyung, I’m sure I’ll see you before the week is over…”

Doyoung was too good. He was casual in every word and expression, even flirting lightly with Johnny and sending him off with a kiss on the cheek. It was on the way to the car that his hand found its way into Taeyong’s back pocket, and he whispered as they arrived back at the car, “Hyung, want to do something fun? Why don’t we go park somewhere? Make things a bit more… exciting?”

 _Park somewhere?_ Taeyong turned to get a good look at Doyoung, blinking blankly. “Park somewhere? Like… to _do something_ in the car?” Admittedly, this was new territory for Taeyong: before Doyoung, he'd had his own apartment, after all, and bringing guys home was just that easy.

“Yeah. Don’t worry— I know a place with an amazing view of the city, where no one will disturb us.” Doyoung smiled wolfishly, opening the driver’s side door for Taeyong and hurrying him in. He was practically vibrating as he slid into his seat on the other side, but his voice was low and sultry as he predicted: “You’re feeling _subby_ tonight, aren’t you?”

“Is is that easy to tell?”

“Mm, something about the way you twitched when I mentioned _biting,”_ Doyoung murmured, his hand finding it’s familiar place on Taeyong’s upper thigh. Taeyong’s breath hitched, his legs spread by pure instinct, and he was completely unprepared for the sharp nip that Doyoung delivered to his earlobe while his eyes were closed. “So cute. Made me want to mark you all up…” His hand slid without hesitation onto Taeyong’s stiffening member, and he whined as he nearly dropped the car keys from his hand.

“Baby, you’re going to make it hard for me to drive! This place you’re thinking of isn’t too far, is it?”

“Not far at all. I’ll _try_ and keep my hands off of you ‘til we get there.” Obediently, though reluctantly, Doyoung’s hands retreated. He seemed surprised when Taeyong leaned in to close the distance once more, their lips locking in a breathless, needy kiss. Just _one,_ to hold them both over. “God…” he breathed when Taeyong pulled away, pupils dilated and eyes ravenous for more. “You’re not making it easy for me, you know.”

“I feel like you’re rubbing off on me,” Taeyong defended with a grin, starting the car at last and grabbing Doyoung’s hand once they were on the road, to keep _both_ of them distracted.

“Or maybe I’m just that good,” Doyoung suggested— cheekily but _confidently—_ and it was enough to make them both burst into laughter.

5.

For all the sex that Doyoung had, he still insisted that Taeyong was the best— and that, Taeyong hypothesized, had a great deal to do with why they _worked_ together. Taeyong couldn’t always keep up, and some nights Doyoung had to go get his fix from somebody else, but he was never jealous because he trusted that he would always be the first choice.

 _“No one else fucks me like you do,”_ Doyoung had said before, and Taeyong never exactly knew what he meant, for the longest time, until he finally asked and Doyoung clarified, _“You’re the one that I can trust to take care of me before, during, and after. You’re the one who gives me exactly what I want, and you’re the one who’s still going to want me just as badly even after you cum.”_

Taeyong had never felt so proud of the relationship that they’d worked for three years to cultivate, of all the work they’d done, all the conversations they’d had— and in that moment, he’d decided all at once, Doyoung was the one for him. He was going to do everything, _everything,_ to make sure that his boyfriend felt safe and loved and cherished every single day, and perhaps most importantly, he was going to do whatever it took to keep Doyoung _satisfied._

And hence— the vibrator. The _Hitachi magic wand,_ to be precise, which had come specifically with a fleshlight attachment that certainly _worked_ like magic. They’d bought toys before, but mostly for Doyoung to use on himself, and rarely did they try playing with them _together._

Taeyong didn’t mind sharing, but if he could do it all himself, at least once in awhile— all the better, right?

“Taeyong, _f-fuck—_ that’s enough, that’s _enough,_ turn it off—”

Taeyong’s thumb clicked over the switch as quickly as he could, turning off the buzzing toy in his hands and leaving Doyoung a quivering, breathless mess with tears in his eyes. It had been their first proper test of just _how_ multi-orgasmic Doyoung was, and his stamina had turned out to be something truly impressive: he’d had his first before Taeyong had even penetrated him, and to Taeyong’s count, an additional _four_ before he called for mercy.

“You’re _amazing,_ bunny. Here, wait— let me help you.” He grabbed an additional pillow, propping it up behind Doyoung for something to lean against, and he grabbed a bottled water from the mini-fridge to offer him. “How are you feeling, bun? That wasn’t too much, was it?”

“This is the first time— in _ages—”_ Doyoung spoke between little gasps, still working to catch his breath and still his muscles. His hands were trembling too much to open the water, and so Taeyong did it for him, and Doyoung barked out an effortful laugh, “—that I haven’t felt horny at _all._ You fucking _did it,_ babe. My mind can finally— _rest.”_

“Wow. Really?!”

“Couldn’t get it up again if I tried… at least, not until tomorrow.” The thoughtful addition at the end made Taeyong snort, and nearly made Doyoung laugh, which would have made him spit out his mouthful of water all over his bare, cum-covered chest.

“You really did make a mess of yourself, bunny,” Taeyong whispered, almost a playful scolding; his finger swiped absently through the mess of semen, and Doyoung took the single digit into his mouth as though it were second nature, unabashedly holding Taeyong’s gaze and making him blush. “Want me to run you a bath?”

“Mm… in a few minutes,” Doyoung protested quietly, releasing Taeyong’s finger, lips glistening as though begging to be kissed. “Play with my hair for a little.”

A predictable request. Taeyong snuggled up to his boyfriend and let him lay his head on his shoulder, and he felt the familiar little twitches as his fingers carded through Doyoung’s hair and the tension left his lover’s body. He could have played with his hair for hours, it seemed, without running out of things to notice. The soft cherry blossom aroma of Doyoung’s shampoo that somehow persisted through the scents of sex and sweat. The absolute grace of his luscious eyelashes, resting closed against his cheek. The way that, after being still for so long that Taeyong assumed he’d fallen asleep, he turned his head enough to kiss Taeyong’s shoulder and whisper, “Love you.”

Even without the push of sex in the background, Doyoung still loved him. That was the best part, he thought to himself with a shiver of pride. Lots of people loved Doyoung, in all kinds of ways, but Taeyong was the one who could claim that love in return. Taeyong was the only one to look into Doyoung’s soft, blissed-out eyes in the middle of the night and watch him pucker his lips in pure, innocent invitation.

An invitation, of course, that Taeyong would always be happy to take. Their lips met, soft and plush and just as perfect as ever.

“Love you too, bunny.”


End file.
